But he paid Mrs. Atterson ten dollars, and then, nudged by his father, turned to Hiram and begged the young farmer's pardon.
“That's all right, etc.,” said Hiram, laying his hand upon the boy's shoulder. “Just because we haven't got on well together heretofore, needn't make any difference between us after this.
“Come over and see me. If you have time this summer and want the work, I'll be glad to hire you to help handle my celery crop.
“Neighbors ought to be neighborly; and it won't do either of us any good to hug to ourselves any injury which we fancy the other has done. We'll be friends if you say so, Peter—though I tell you right now that if you turn another mean trick against me, I'll take the law into my own hands and give you worse than you've got already.”
Pete looked sheepish enough, and shook hands. He knew very well that Hiram could do as he promised.
But from that time on the young farmer had no further trouble with him.
Meanwhile Hiram's crops on the Atterson Eighty grew almost as well this second season as they had the first. There was a bad drouth this year, and the upland corn did not do so well; yet the young farmer's corn crop compared well with the crops in the neighborhood.
He had put in but eight acres of corn this year; but they had plenty of old corn in the crib when it came time to take down this second season's crop.
It was upon the celery that Hiram bent all his energies. He had to pay out considerable for help, but that was no more than he expected. Celery takes a deal of handling.
When the long, hot, dry days came, when the uplands parched and the earth fairly seemed to radiate the heat, the acres of tender plants which Hiram and his helpers had just set out in the trenches began to wilt most discouragingly.